


More than One

by purrfectj



Series: That Looks on Tempests and is Never Shaken [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purrfectj/pseuds/purrfectj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He blinked at her, slowly, trying to remember what, exactly, they had been discussing. She tended to leave his wits extra scrambled when she kissed him. Then he shifted and the book on his legs tilted dangerously close to the part of him that wanted to go back to the kissing. Catching it just before it did him an injury, he jabbed a finger accusingly from her to it and then back again. “You can have more than one!” - Alistair and Aalish make a discovery. Zevran and Leliana are competitive. Wynne is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More than One

“Wait, so...how is this fair?” Alistair's frustrated exclamation was overly loud in the tent he shared with his fellow Grey Warden, and lover, Aalish Cousland. She looked up from where she was darning one of his socks, a slim copper brow raised in query, her needle never pausing. He was sprawled on his back among their blankets and furs, a book balanced precariously against his upraised thighs. The conjured mage light Wynne had thoughtfully provided for them bathed him in a pale yellow glow, burnishing the gold streaks in his hair, gilding the strong planes of his handsome face. He was currently pouting quite prettily, his generous lower lip protruding in a way Aalish found particularly kissable. 

And because he was gorgeous, and because just looking at him caused her stomach to clench in want, and because she _could_ kiss him, anytime she liked, she set aside the sock, careful of the needle, and crawled across the small space toward him. His chameleon hazel eyes flicked up to her face as he heard her move, widening a little as they always did when she approached him, pupils darkening. His pout, however, didn't waver, and her own mouth curved as she pressed her lips to his, her sharp white teeth gently tugging at his lower lip. She felt his heartbeat speed up under the hand she had balanced on his chest, enjoyed the gruff sound he made in the back of his throat as his hand fisted in the back of her hair, silently urging her to open to the sweep of his tongue. She hummed her pleasure, breaking the kiss to rub her nose against his. “What's not fair, my handsome prince?” 

He blinked at her, slowly, trying to remember what, exactly, they had been discussing. She tended to leave his wits extra scrambled when she kissed him. Then he shifted and the book on his legs tilted dangerously close to the part of him that wanted to go back to the kissing. Catching it just before it did him an injury, he jabbed a finger accusingly from her to it and then back again. “You can have more than one!” 

Turning so that she could see, which meant curling up against his side and placing her cheek on his chest, Aalish trailed her slender, tapered fingers down the page. Alistair felt her touch to the book as if on his own skin from neck to groin; he shifted a little as his eager cock twitched. He felt rather than saw her smile, her cheek plumping against his chest as her fingers slid down past the book to cup over the bulge in his breeches. He couldn’t stop the small groan or the lift of his hips to her touch. 

As her mouth nuzzled into the open collar of his tunic, her clever hands released him from his breeches and pushed away his smalls before he realized what she was about. When her fingers closed around his length, her thumb swiping over the head, he hastily discarded the book and tilted her chin up to find her lips with his. The kiss was a little desperate, his tongue tangling with hers, his hips stuttering as she stroked his cock, base to tip, teasing another low sound of pleasure from his throat. She released him only long enough to slide over on top of him and Alistair blessed the day she'd stolen one of his extra tunics for sleeping and her habit of not wearing smalls in their tent. There was nothing between his impatient flesh and her warm, damp heat, nothing that kept her from curling her fingers around him to guide him inside of her, a slow, torturous, voluptuous glide. 

They were both gasping when she was seated fully upon him, his width still causing a small hitch of discomfort that melted into pleasure when he rolled his hips beneath her, his hands pushing up the tunic so one could knead her ass, the other finding the center of her pleasure and stroking with a blunt fingertip. It was her turn to whimper, to arch back, her eyes wild and dark sapphire, holding his hot green and gold gaze as she began to move, drawn-out, agonizing thrusts of her hips. 

“Aalish,” he whispered hoarsely, his finger increasing its pressure and speed around her clit, enthralled by the flush on her skin, by the way she squeezed tight around him. He slid his free hand up her belly, under the tunic, until he could cover one of her high, firm breasts with his hand. He was rewarded by a low keening sound from his love, her hips suddenly moving faster over him, and Alistair made his own sound of pleasure. 

“So close, oh Maker, Alistair, so close, so good, want...ahhhhhh!” She bowed back, her hair streaming down to tickle his thighs, her sex fluttering wildly around his cock as she came. He gasped and heaved her over, pushing her legs up over his shoulders and setting up a punishing rhythm, the angle letting him hit the spot inside he knew she particularly liked, the one that soon had her writhing and arching beneath him. When her fingers danced between them, stroking him as she stroked herself, Alistair clenched his teeth and growled. He could tell she was close again by the hitch in her breath, by the wild, desperate look in her eyes and felt his own peak approaching, his balls tightening, preparing to spill inside her. 

“Again,” he demanded hoarsely and she complied with a twist of her hips, her short, ragged nails digging sharply into the muscle of his biceps, turning her head to muffle her short, sharp scream into the bedding as her sex clamped down hard around his cock, wet and slick and scalding hot. Determined to last just a half-second more, to draw out her pleasure, Alistair gritted his teeth and slammed his hips down, grinding his balls against her ass, rewarded when her astonishing blue eyes whipped to his face. “Again?” he managed and at her jerky, stunned nod, he threw his head back and emptied himself into her with a long, low groan. 

He wasn’t prepared for Aalish to let out a gasping, startled cry, her hands scrabbling at his chest, or to feel her ripple and tighten around his incredibly sensitive and still half-hard cock. “Alistair!” she whimpered and though he gently lowered her legs, he didn’t slide out of her, instead covering her mouth with his own and letting her rock against him as she rode out the last of her orgasm. She was trembling when he rolled to his back and he soothed as best he could with soft kisses and gentle caresses, until she murmured, sounding drunk and dazed, “Not fair, huh?” 

Alistair pressed a kiss to her temple. “I can neither confirm nor deny that I showed you that passage on purpose.” 

She propped herself up on his chest and nuzzled his chin with her lips. His smug, adoring expression caused Aalish’s heart to flutter and dip and dive, a sweeter, softer, gentler feeling than the one they’d just shared in the bedroll. “I love you.” 

It was the first time she’d said the words to him. His smile was brighter than the sun. His hand cupped her cheek. When he would have opened his mouth to answer, to return the words to her, she pressed a fingertip to his lips. “I know, Alistair.” 

He nipped her finger, made her laugh as he turned so she was tucked into the curve of his body, her back to his front. “Good.” When she wiggled her bottom into him, he sank his teeth into her shoulder and slid his hand back up under the tunic to knead her breast. Aalish purred and covered his hand with her own, capturing it over her heart. 

“So Warden stamina and more than one. Which one of us do you think will break first?” she asked conversationally. His bark of laughter was accompanied by a sharp pinch to her nipple. She giggled and pulled her tunic off and over her head. “Let’s find out.” 

Across the camp, Wynne recast her ward of silence just as she heard Zevran exclaim, “Warden stamina?!” 

It was one of the many times Wynne thanked the Maker she was a mage. “Silly children,” she muttered. 

In the morning, Zevran and Leliana were staring dejectedly at their porridge, faces slightly drawn and pale, while Alistair and Aalish snuggled on a log, looking as bright and fresh as a couple of summer roses. Mouth grim, Wynne cast a rejuvenation spell on the two rogues. “Alistair, Aalish, it is not nice to torment others,” she lectured. “Zevran, Leliana, it is not a competition.” 

Aalish looked startled and Alistair confused. Zevran and Leliana both muttered darkly. Wynne closed her eyes and counted, slowly, to ten. “I’ll make you a charm to keep in your tent. It will help dampen the…noise.” 

Both Alistair and Aalish blushed a rosy red. Sten snorted into his cup and patted Sarim. Morrigan stood abruptly and stalked away. Shale just looked to the sky – no birds. 

Wynne thought maybe she should have just stayed in the tower. “I’m surrounded by randy adolescents,” she muttered. 

“Love is ever foolish,” Zevran agreed, suddenly his cheerful self. 

“That should be the title of our adventures!” Leliana exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands. 

Aalish peeked up at Alistair, who shrugged and rolled his eyes down at her. She giggled and snuggled closer. His warm breath at her ear caused a shiver. “I love you, Aalish Cousland.” 

“One good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together,” she quipped. 

His laughter at hearing his own words returned to him filled the clearing. 


End file.
